Pushed Onward By The Trade Winds
by mytinywhispers
Summary: A series of one shots centered around the surviving crew members of the merchant sailing vessel Sheila and the ship which rescues them. (nautical au)
1. Chapter 1

Everything was on fire. The whole scene was a cloud of smoke at that point with screaming echoing from around them. They could still hear the whistling and crashing of cannon fire on the hull of the ship below them and the ripping and cracking sound of chain shot destroying the rigging high above them.

Church was sure his foot was broken. It had gotten shot in the crossfire. He gripped the railing with white hands, trying to pull himself along to a lifeboat. All around him he could hear the screams of wounded men. Down below he could faintly here the sound of the last few men firing off four-pounders at the enemy. But he knew it was useless.

They were all going to die here.

He bit back another scream as he pulled himself forward. White hot pain surged through his leg, but he refused to admit it. If he was going down it would be with dignity, and he was going down quickly, there was no way he could make it across the deck like this. As he began to give up Church felt an arm under his shoulder, lifting him higher and dragging him forward faster.

"Let's go asshole we have to get off this ship." A gruff voice pulled him temporarily away from his pain and into the present. He glanced over to see a young man helping him along.

"Tex." He almost breathed a sigh of relief, "I'm so glad you're-"

"Shut up and keep moving." His voice was stern as he continued to drag church along the deck lifting him over a few dead bodies in the process. Church tried not to notice how they had died. but the missing limbs had made the deck bloodied and vile smelling. The smoke grew thicker. Church wondered how long it would be until he joined them, it would only take one stray cannon to put him out of his misery.

It felt like ages past before they reached the small boats. The remaining crew was scrambling inside and casting out over the water. The two of them shuffled closer with the masses towards the ships.

"Church I haven't been honest with you." Tex started suddenly, slowing the two of them down just a bit.

"I'm very well aware of that," Church gritted, trying not to number the things that Tex had lied to him about on their few years as mates aboard the ship.

"No this concerns you, threes something you need to know." He leaned in and started whispering in Churches ear.

"But where on earth-" Church started, his eyes wide and his heart racing

"Look out!" a cry ran out half a second before Church realized what was happening. Texas pushed hard and sent him flying towards the boats as the foremast cracked and fell over where they had been standing. The rigging snapping rapidly and the other masts following suit. The ship was beginning to sink faster below the waves.

"TEX!" he tried to rush forward to where he had seen her last but strong arms wrapped around Church and put him inside the life boat. They cast off into the water and started away as the ship cracked and sunk down into the sea, a billowing wall of smoke enclosing her.

Tex never reappeared and Church soon collapsed from exhaustion and pain. The last thing he saw off in the distance was the bright white hull and billowing sails of the ship that had caused them so much pain still circling the sinking vessel.


	2. Chapter 2

The sun was glaring down and Simmons eyes burned as he stared at it, only a few pieces of colored glass keeping him from possible blindness. The ship was still in the water, not a wave to behold, the perfect conditions to take a sight. He let his fingers slide along the instrument in his hands the reflection of the sun was lowered slowly until its edge touched the horizon.

"Simmons what the fuck are you doing?" Grif's voice broke through his hard earned concentration, throwing off the sight.

"Trying to discern our position based on the movement of the sun. Not something you would understand."

"Why bother?"

"Because I want to know where we are."

"We know where we are, we're in the doldrums, we haven't moved in three days because there's no wind. Why can't you just use the position you plotted yesterday? Or the day before that? Or the day before that? They're all the same."

"Well it's still important to check."

"You're such a kiss ass. This is just your way of impressing the Captain isn't it? 'Oh look at me I'm Simmons I can do all the fancy math with the sun' blah blah blah."

Simmons rolled his eyes and went back to adjusting the sextant. There was just no explaining things to some people. At this point he no longer cared if Grif didn't understand the high ranking jobs at sea. There had been a few moments long ago where he had secretly hoped that Grif would prove to be as much a man of the world as their captain was. He certainly had the potential.

But then again he was a good for nothing, lazy fatass who was thousands of miles from home and, for the most part, seemed out of his element.

Satisfied at last Simmons wrote down the angle on the sextant and packed it away before he began his calculations in the chart room.

Was it too much to ask for Grif to appreciate what he did as navigator? He made sure they stayed on track and didn't get lost which was a lot more than anyone else seemed to be doing. Simmons had been studying for years to get to the rank he had now; learning the careful calculations and the precise movements to capture the stars on a rolling ship. Everyone else had come to admire him, but all Grif has to say on the matter is 'We haven't moved in three days.'

"Idiot" Simmons muttered under his breath as he brought out tools and plotted the position. He took a long hard look at the chart and the marks he had made on it, biting back an angry scream he felt rising in his chest.

"What the status Simmons?" The Captain called in to him.

"We haven't moved in three days sir" Simmons reported trying to keep himself calm. Pictures of Grif's 'I told you so' face playing in the back of his mind.

"Sounds about right. Carry on."

Simmons gritted his teeth as he left the chart room praying to God that the wind would start up soon. As soon as the wind started he would be useful again, and then certain stupid low ranked sailors would have to keep their mouths shut around him.


	3. Chapter 3

Tucker woke up to see a kid laid out on his chest staring at him with wide brown eyes.

"I must be hallucinating." He reached his hand up to wipe the hair out of the kid's face, but his fingers stopped. He wasn't ready to admit this might not be real, the figment looked just like his kid back at port and the big eyes and crazy hair made him smile just a bit.

"I missed you, you know. I thought I was going to die back there and never see you again." Tucker told the figure on top of him.

The boy's face scrunched up with worry.

"Don't think about it too much though, I'm here now right? I'll have to see how much time I have in port. Someday you'll be old enough to come with me. You'll love the sea. It's great you can go on all kinds of adventures and meet all kinds of really hot women. Not as pretty as your mom of coerce. Don't mention to your mom that I said anything about other women ok?"

The kid nodded his head rapidly.

"You would have liked the east though. I brought you guys back some stuff. I guess it got burnt up in the fire though. We all kinda got burnt up in the fire." Tucker let that statement set in.

The child's eyes seemed full of worry.

"Nothing you need to worry about though. You're safe at home. You won't even know what happened."

"Tucker, who the fuck are you talking to over there?"

"I'm talking to my kid you fucking prick."

"Hell of a hallucination that must be. Tell him he needs to start speaking English."

"Church has a point buddy, you have to learn English at some point. You can't speak island gibberish forever."

The imaginary child muttered something incoherent and rolled his eyes.

"Dude, don't talk to me like that I'm your father. "

"Hey, um, hey Church?" Tucker heard a third voice speak up timidly, "this guy is sleeping and he won't wake up."

"You sure Caboose?"

"He isn't moving Church. And he smells really funny. His legs all burnt up and he won't wake up when I shake him."

"He's dead Caboose. Just toss him over the side."

Tucker's son seemed alarmed at that statement and turned to see the dead man. Tucker instinctively reached up to stop him, but his hand passed through the mirage and suddenly the boy was no longer there.

He shut his eyes tight as the sound of a body splashing into the water reached his ears. There was no wind, no water to drink and there was no food to eat except perhaps out of desperation.

How many of them were left at this point? He couldn't even lift his head to check. He could feel his body slowly giving up.

How long until he joined the rest of the crew under the waves?


	4. Chapter 4

The bosun was taking the opportunity presented by the doldrums to mend sails. They were hung out to dry in the hot sun, perfect for an inspection. Up aloft was like being in heaven, the endless expanses of white surrounding you. Up there a man could think, up there a man was free from having to listen to the endless rabble of the captain and his crew.

Lopez maneuvered himself carefully around the rigging. Checking for holes and tears in the sail and taking careful notes so that they could be fixed next time they found themselves in port. He checked over the lines as well, making sure nothing was chafing or tangled.

To be honest Lopez had no idea how he had ended up on board this ship. He had worked aboard much larger vessels before; ships who carried goods all over the world, ships with hundreds of men and cannons, ships that served royalty and well known merchants. But now here he was aboard this small ship sailing around the Atlantic running odd jobs for the military. It wasn't a life he would have chosen for himself. The crew seemed to be made of morons.

From all the way up here he could see their flaws. One of the deck hands was lying half hidden in the scuppers taking a nap while the navigator rushed around looking for him. They both appeared to be friends in some capacity, but what that capacity was seemed to be a mystery. Rumor was that they had originally met aboard a frigate in the pacific and then somehow ended up crew together again sometime later aboard this ship.

He could see a blond boy running down the deck. He had worked his way up from cabin boy to deckhand over the years. And he had a strange fascination with bilge diving which no one ever questioned him about.

The captain was standing at the bow, looking like a self important ass as always. He had gone a bit mad with age and power. He was full of half baked, crazy, harebrained schemes that never worked and always ended with the boat ripped to shreds. Lopez was always the one keeping up the place and fixing every little problem.

The other members of the crew were lying around the deck, no doubt almost dying of cabin fever. They had enough water to last a few more days without rain, but everyone would be getting nervous anyway. Hands fumbled with decks of cards. Even the captain was overlooking gambling at this point. What else could they do?

No one was paying him any mind up here with the sails. He climbed into the fighting top and sat down to think for a while. He wouldn't be missed. Sometimes he let his thoughts stray to other ships he had worked on in the past. Today he remembered Sheila.

She was a merchant vessel. Three square rigged masts. She was easy to sail, tough and fast. He loved that ship. He really did. He remembered bending on her yards after a winter in dock. The smooth, polished wood under his finger tips. The line spliced with care. When the wind caught her and pushed her off the dock the blocks would shift just so in the wind and the creak of wood was a song.

Hands down she was one of the most beautiful ships that Lopez had ever seen. He had worked aboard her for a single year and he had spent that year etching every fiber of her craft into his mind. Even then as he closed his eyes he could feel the deck beneath his feet. He could hear the shift of the sails calling out to him-

"Hey Lopez! Get down here; I have a project for you!" Lopez's eyes shot open at the sound of the captain beneath him. No doubt he wanted something crazy built or fixed. Lopez rolled his eyes and started down the shrouds.

Someday he would see his beloved again, but for now he was stuck here with these crazy people.


End file.
